Chapter 3

Russell looked at the agitated Mary,

then glanced at me, curled up on the ground, nearly unconscious. Finally, she sighed.

She took off her coat, covered me with it, then turned and walked toward Marcus.

"I'll take Marcus to the hospital first for a checkup. His face is a bit pale—he might be in shock."

Marcus immediately leaned against her, his voice weak.

"Russell, I'm so scared."

"I'll take you to the hospital right away."

Russell carefully supported him.

From start to finish, she never looked back at me once.

Mary shot me a disgusted glance and gave orders to the assistant and bodyguards still on scene:

"Clean this place up. Don't let these random people get near Marcus's car again."

With that, she quickly followed Russell, protecting them as they left.

"See, nobody wants him after all."

The fan from earlier crouched down and patted my swollen face.

"Weren't you pretty tough just now? Go ahead and kill me too, murderer!"

Another girl crouched down and violently tore off the coat covering me.

"You don't deserve to wear such nice clothes!"

"Strip his clothes off—scum like him doesn't deserve to wear clothes!"

Someone shrieked the suggestion, immediately drawing excited agreement from others.

My whole body was in agony. I could barely move, could only watch helplessly as several hands roughly tore at my already tattered hospital gown.

I tried to struggle, my voice hoarse and weak.

But I was slapped hard across the face.

The fan pinched my face.

"Marcus is kind and won't hold it against you, but we're not so forgiving!"

"From now on, every word you say, I'll slap you once."

They dragged me to a relatively secluded corner nearby,

then pulled clubs and knives from their bags.

"We're doing this for justice!"

My desperate struggles only earned me merciless beatings.

A bodyguard nearby, unable to bear watching, picked up his phone to call Mary.

"Alex is being targeted by Marcus's fans right now. What should we—"

"You're reporting such a trivial matter to me?"

Mary impatiently cut him off.

"Didn't I tell you just to keep random people away from Marcus's car? What do other people have to do with me?"

Then Russell's tense voice came through the phone:

"Why are you wasting time on irrelevant people? Marcus's heart rate is a bit fast—go find a doctor now."

Some rustling sounds came through, then Russell's clear voice:

"Keep the scene under control. Don't let things get too out of hand, and definitely don't let anyone photograph anything that could hurt Marcus."

"As for the rest, as long as he doesn't die, it's fine."

The call was abruptly disconnected.

The fans heard the conversation and laughed loudly.

"Hear that? As long as he doesn't die."

"What are we afraid of? With Mary backing us up, we can have as much fun as we want!"

They exchanged glances, their mocking laughter becoming even more piercing.

The crowd gradually dispersed.

No one called an ambulance for me.

No one helped me up.

I was thrown here like trash.

I braced myself against the ground, gritting my teeth, sitting up bit by bit.

The last traces of affection in my heart vanished completely.

Then I pulled out my phone and sent a text to a number I knew by heart:

[I agree to the cooperation. Name your price. I just want them dead!]